Just Talking With a Friend

Mark is starting to read this blog. I am not totally sure how much he has read or how often but I am aware that there are times when he does this. I see it as a sign that he is making progress in his grief process as I am in my own way as well.

At first he adamantly refused to read it. I wanted to read him it so that he could understand what I was feeling. How Andrew's death was affecting me and what I was seeing in the boys. Also because it is an easier way for me to talk about this than verbally.

I would write something and ask him at first if he wanted to read. He would shake his head and look away or turn away from me completely. And at first, it hurt a bit that he wouldn't read this. It felt almost like a rejection of me in a way. But I have moved past that. I know that is not what he was doing. It was too much for him. Too personal. Too close to home for him.

My feelings may have been hurt a bit initially but I know that the subject matter that I write about here isn't necessarily pretty. Or fun. Or nice. Or anything easy. Sometimes it is very difficult to write about how much it hurts or to document the memories. But it is one way that I have found an outlet for what I feel and how I am processing this awful thing that happened that shouldn't have happened.

Actually I find it surprising that anyone would keep reading this really because of the basic topic of my entries. Well, if someone else lost their child then it makes some sense. I also understand my mom reading it daily and my sister reading it regularly. They are my immediate family. Maybe even some of the extended family checking in from time to time. Possibly a few of my closer friends. But really, anyone else, other than accidental hits on my blog not knowing what it is, I don't get.  

Well, it doesn't matter. I kind of pretend I am talking to one of my most dear and treasured friends when I write here. Someone who has always supported me, encouraged me and made me feel safe. Accepted despite my imperfect struggles in life. Not judged in the moment because I am just allowed to vent and state what's on my mind because I need to get it out. My thoughts expressed here are just something that needs to be said to someone who doesn't take them as the sum of all I am at the moment or something more than just what is going on at the moment. My way of processing and trying to sort through all of this and find healing for my heart and soul. As though I am getting a huge hug at the end of each entry or a few affectionate squeezes on the shoulder before being told that it was good of me to share or something else nice like that that just shows support and nothing else.  

Thanks for "listening" cherished friend. You have no idea how much you mean to me. I look forward to talking with you soon. I don't deserve such a good friend as you.